


Lose Ourselves in Wild Delight

by MurtaghArcturus



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Marion is a good mom, Mutual Pining, beau needs a mom, this could work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2021-01-26 17:29:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21377842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MurtaghArcturus/pseuds/MurtaghArcturus
Summary: "Gods above, was she eager to speak with the monk. Marion had been witness to her making moon-eyes at her daughter for months."I suck at summaries but bear with me here.
Relationships: Jester Lavorre/Beauregard Lionett, Marion Lavorre | Ruby of the Sea & Beauregard Lionett
Comments: 40
Kudos: 391





	Lose Ourselves in Wild Delight

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted Marion and Beau content so desperately I actually wrote some. I am an editor by trade and not a writer, so if this is terrible then my bad lol. This hasn't been proofread by anyone but me so we'll see how many errors there are. Tell me in the comments -- it'll drive me crazy.
> 
> The title and poem referenced in this is actually a real thing called "Catullus 5" by a Roman dude who wrote it sometime between 84-54 b.c. (I'm too lazy to find the date) meaning it is totally plagiarized for this fic and not at all mine. I have no idea what possessed me to add it in but be rest assured it was not my original intention. 
> 
> Onward ho!

Marion had spent a great deal of time observing Jester’s friends. A good mother should after all; and she did love her Little Sapphire so dearly. A little overprotectiveness didn’t seem altogether unreasonable. 

She credited herself good at reading people, as was a necessity in the kind of work she did. It had always come easily to her, but it was a skill honed through years of practice.

Over the past months, after the group’s return from Xhorhas and their fraught retrieval of their tall friend, Yasha, she had found herself _ conveniently _ in a place to speak with them one on one, hoping to learn as much as she could about the group that Jester always talked so happily about.

First, Nott. Or Veth, as she had heard the woman’s husband call her. At the beginning, learning that Jester had befriended a Goblin had her feeling alarmed, but as she got to know the woman, it became clear to Marion — if perhaps not the others — that she seemed the nurturing, even motherly, type. And then, one day, those suspicions were confirmed with the arrival of Nott’s young Halfling son at her doorstep. 

The brief messages she’d received from Jester did little to explain, but she was happy to give the boy and the older woman, Edith, shelter from the obvious trauma that they had experienced in Felderwin. When Nott’s husband, also a Halfling, was recovered from Xhorhas and given over to Marion’s protection as well… that was when she learned more. And the story was truly heart-wrenching, seeming more like something out of one of her novels and too horrible to be real. She was sure to provide all she could for Yeza and Luc while they were in her care, and she always kept an open ear to Veth when she needed one.

Next came Caduceus, whose company she greatly enjoyed. Where many of the others seemed keen to avoid speaking too deeply with her, she rarely found it anything but easy to speak with him alone. He actually seemed rather eager, delighted when she offered him a cup of tea next to the fire. He was a gentle soul, and she could see the wisdom behind his eyes, even if he was often confused with the goings on around him. He was both a wonderful insight into the people he called his friends, if also sometimes exasperatingly cryptic.

She enjoyed Caleb’s company as well, though he was much quieter and seemed cautious of speaking about his past. Maybe _ cautious _ wasn’t the right word — completely terrified perhaps fit better. Even after months — nearly a year now? — of Jester being a part of the Mighty Nein, Marion knew that Caleb was very reluctant to speak of his past, if at all. 

His closeness with Beauregard seemed different than with the others, though. Sometimes she wondered how their friends didn’t see it — the looks the two would share at certain times, when certain things were said. Beauregard’s eyes darting toward Caleb should anyone speak of their childhoods, or, more specifically, of their parents — but they were all so very young, and time hadn’t given them the opportunity to observe the patterns within people that Marion had.

When Yasha had returned to them, she was nearly impossible to speak with. Even the group themselves appeared to feel the tension, some more than others, and it took a great deal of time for that tension to ease. But they were always protective of the woman, trying to help her reintegrate into their lives. Beau and Jester in particular took this upon themselves. Marion could see the terrible weight that bore down on Yasha, appearing to pull her very frame towards the floor as she hunched in on herself, avoiding contact with the others unless coaxed most times.

The things she learned about Yasha’s past, after a great deal of work on her part — working to build trust before jumping in — were also terrible. Hearing the depth of pain in Yasha’s voice as she spoke of her lost wife made it hard to keep the emotion out of her own. Their talk lasted most of the night and, afterward, Yasha seemed much more comfortable, even sharing the small, shy smile that she hadn’t seen in months.

Fjord was more challenging to get to know. Her interest in him was more specific; she was aware of Jester’s feelings for him, and was maybe slightly worried for her girl’s heart. But the charming man that she had met during their first visit had evolved over the course of their adventures. It definitely didn’t escape her notice that his accent was completely different after their return from Uthodurn, and some of his personality with it. He seemed more self-assured now, if a little less outwardly confident. She had seen the insecurity within him before as well, hidden behind the mask he had been so determined to wear. She was glad he had found it within to feel comfortable with himself.

After paying a great deal of attention and watching the two interact, she had come to the conclusion that his feelings towards Jester were not of the same depth, and it worried her for a time. She had kept a close eye on the two in the months that followed and was very relieved to see that her girl’s heart had not been broken, and Jester’s feelings towards the Half-orc had turned to a more friendly ease.

That only left Beau.

And Gods above, was she eager to speak with the monk. Marion had been witness to her making moon-eyes at her daughter for _ months_. 

* * *

It was easier than she thought it would be to have Beau sitting down across from her, sipping from the tea cup she had set down. It was probably owed to the previous times Marion had visited with both her and Jester together, often talking into the late hours, long after everyone else had gone to bed, or during a late afternoon as the sun crawled lazily across the sky.

She knew from those conversations that Beau’s life had not been an easy one. She spoke candidly, always loud and excited, about their adventures — especially the battles — but never failed to stiffen up whenever her time before the Cobalt Soul was brought up. She’d gleaned from hints and grumbled comments that Beauregard’s parents were… how was the courteous way to put it? Absolute shit-bags.

It pained Marion to watch the girl flinch every time she and Jester would hug, or smile, or just generally interact as a parent and child should. It broke her heart to see the longing glances that Beau tried to hide, gruffly crossing her arms or clenching her jaw, always trying hard not to want it the way she did.

Now, as the girl sat across from her, grinning as Marion made a sly comment about the previous night’s bar patrons, she considered her more deeply.

She knew — could see — the breadth of care that Beau held for Jester. She could see it every day, every moment that they were together. 

Marion had listened to enough messages of, ‘_Beau was so sweet today, Mama! She held my hair back while I barfed my guts out because of this weird spider Yasha likes!’ _ and, ‘_Beau punched this big freaky monster right in the face today when it grabbed me, Mama, you should have seen it!’ _ and, _ ‘Beau told me about what she was like when she was a kid! She never tells anyone anything, Mama!’ _to know that Beau kept an eye on her Jester and did her best to protect her probably more than anyone else in the Mighty Nein did. 

It reminded her of a poem that she loved, and read to Jester when she was a girl:

_ Come and let us live my dear… Let us love and never fear… _

And she had also heard enough things like, ‘_Beau is so pretty and so cool, Mama, you should see her abs ohmygosh!’ _to strongly suspect that perhaps their feelings were mutual.

Hence why she was so excited to sit Beau down and see if she couldn’t parse it out. 

“So,” Marion said, during a moment of silence, smiling teasingly and raising an eyebrow as she sipped her tea. “How long have you been in love with my Jester?”

Beau, who had been raising her own cup to her lips while still snickering about their previous comments, froze, her eyes snapping up.

Marion sipped her tea placidly. “Hm?”

When a few seconds passed with no response, Marion finally looked at her. She blinked, taken a bit back by the horror dawning on Beau’s face. The genuine carefree smirk of only a moment before had completely fallen away.

“I—I, uh — ” Beau stammered, before suddenly jerking in her seat and sitting forward. She hastily set the tea cup onto the table with a small rattle.

“That bad is it?” Marion chuckled.

The laugh abruptly quieted at the pain that crossed the girls face, before her expression closed off completely.

As she watched, Beauregard stood, her posture stiff, scowling down at the floor.

Marion’s eyebrows pulled together and she put her hand out to stop her. “Beaurega—”

Beau winced, putting her palms up in front of her. “I — You don’t—” She stopped, and took a shaky breath. “You don’t have to say anything. I know that I’m not…“ 

Closing her eyes, Beau pressed her lips together. “I know what I am.”

A lead weight fell into Marion’s stomach and she stood slowly, arms reaching towards the girl in front of her. “Beau, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Beau’s lips lifted like she was trying to smile, but it appeared more as a grimace. She looked up, and the torment in her eyes shocked Marion. “I promise that I won’t say anything, Ms. Lavorre. I swear_. _ I would _ never_—" she seemed to choke on the words, before forcing them out. “I could never hurt Jes that way.”

Before Marion could say another word, Beau was gone, flying out of the room with her almost unnatural speed. And just as the door was swinging heavily closed with the momentum of the monk’s exit, Beau’s hand shot out and caught it before it could slam against the jam, easing it shut with a quiet ‘_click’_.

Marion’s heart tugged and she sighed, sitting down heavily. Beau hadn’t called her ‘Ms. Lavorre’ for months.

  
  


* * *

For the past few days, Marion had watched Beauregard work harder than anyone she had ever seen. The girl was relentless. 

Anytime Marion walked into a room, or around a corner, or by Jester’s bedroom doorway, Beau would stop whatever she was doing from where she was inevitably nearby and she would put as much distance between her and Jester as possible. Or she would leap from their bed, even if Jester was nowhere near it. Or make a b-line straight out the nearest exit and into the city. 

And though she was usually incredibly agile — Marion had seen the girl catch an _ arrow _ accidentally fired from Nott’s crossbow once — she seemed to be constantly fumbling around the two tieflings now.

Currently, it was breakfast. Everyone sat around the table, chatting jovially. She smiled as she looked up to Fjord good-naturedly elbowing Caleb, teasing him for nearly knocking over the jam as he refused to take his eyes away from the book in front of him. 

Chuckling, Marion looked across the table as Jester’s laugh sounded around them all.

She watched as Jester threw her head back, a full belly-laugh nearly making her fall as she tipped her chair onto its back legs. Beau, who, for the first time in days, seemed some-what more relaxed, easily caught her with one hand. 

She was also laughing, half of her face covered in cinnamon and pastry crumbs. As Marion watched, Beau grinned evilly, wiping her hand down through the mess and laying it over Jester’s still laughing face.

At Jester’s incredulous gasp, Marion snickered. 

Beau’s expression fractured and she pulled her hand away.

“I’m uh, I’m gonna go explore the coast a bit. Catch you guys later.” And once again, before anyone could respond, Beau was out of the kitchen, nearly running in her haste to escape.

Marion frowned deeply, biting her lip. She looked over, seeing Jester’s confused and hurt expression as she stared toward the door before Nott got her attention and her smile flickered back onto her face, seeming far more forced than before.

_ Lives again as blithe tomorrow… But if we dark sons of sorrow _

_ Set; o then, how long a Night… Shuts the Eyes of our short light… _

This was a mistake that Marion needed to fix. She’d hoped that Beau’s fears would fade quickly if she saw that Marion wasn’t upset with her, but it appeared that the girl was as stubborn as Jester always told her. She knew that she needed to speak with someone who could help her understand where she had stepped so incorrectly — she had an idea of the reasons, but she now knew that her own assumptions about Beau weren’t as reliable as her insights typically were. 

She didn’t want to step wrongly again, and potentially make everything worse.

There were two people that Marion knew to ask, not including her Jester; this was about her after all.

* * *

Marion poked her head into the bar, spotting Caleb sitting in his usual corner. It was late, and all of the patrons had abandoned their drinks to retire to their rooms hours ago. She had seen the wizard taking advantage of the peaceful quiet after dinner, before she had to meet with a client, and so had suspected that she may still find him here.

It wasn’t long until dawn. The only light was the single candle resting on Caleb’s table, casting its soft glow over the tome in front of him.

She approached slowly, slipping around tables and lightly clearing her throat. Caleb hummed for a moment before looking up, his eyebrows rising.

“Ms. Lavorre. I did not expect you to be awake at this hour. It is very late.” He stopped, looking at her face. “Something, ah, troubles you?” He motioned to the chair across from him.

She frowned, taking a seat. “Yes. I am afraid that I may have… opened an old wound for Beauregard. It was very much unintentional; I’m actually a bit embarrassed. I am usually much more accomplished at reading people.”

Caleb blinked at her. “Ah… alright. May I ask what exactly you are referring to? I might know a bit more about her than the others. I assume that is why you’ve sought me out?”

Marion nodded, smiling apologetically. “I’m sure you’ve seen how close she and my Jester are.”

A small smile pulled at his lips as he looked down. “So you have noticed as well, then?”

“I was aware of Jester’s feelings for Fjord, months ago, and I’ve watched their relationship deepen, if emerge platonic. A mother cannot help but be protective of her only daughter.” Marion laughed, self-deprecating. She placed her elbow onto the table, her fingers curling against her mouth. “But Beau… They are a good match, I think. I was really only curious.” 

“And — ahm. You, uh, brought this up with her, or…?”

She sighed. “I did. In entirely the wrong way, it seems. I only meant to tease, and perhaps glean more information, but it apparently did not come across that way to her. I am aware that Beau’s childhood was… less than perfect. That she was not given the love that she deserved.” Marion glared at the table between them. 

At his considering frown, she continued. “I was not aware of how deep the wound is for her.”

“Beauregard is the most contradictory person I have ever met. You are right in your observations about her life before becoming a monk. Her parents were” — his eyes suddenly met hers, a clear striking blue in the shadows surrounding them — " _ less than ideal _ caregivers.”

The weight Marion had been feeling for the past few days sunk further into her stomach, her heart aching. “I see,” she sighed.

“It can be hard for her, sometimes, to reconcile that hand does not always equate fist.”

Marion closed her eyes. _ The poor girl. _ “If only I had the opportunity to speak with her those who hurt her so. Only a few minutes, and I could begin to display to them their barbarous, primitive so called ‘parenting’ and the absolutely _ ridiculous _— ” She stopped herself, taking a breath.

“I do not disagree with you. And neither does the rest of the Nein — we have been… meaning to schedule a visit.” He flipped the page in front of him. “It’s a bit challenging though. Beauregard still carries that time with her, far more than she would like us to believe.”

“I should have gone about everything very differently to begin with,” Marion murmured, standing. “This is my mistake, and I need to make it right.”

  
  


* * *

Climbing the stairs up to her room, an old habit Marion thought she’d outgrown struck her. She considered for a moment before making her way towards Jester’s room. 

Cracking the door open, she poked her head in before stepping through. It was nothing but the urge to watch her for a few moments, having not been able to say goodnight and after a long meeting with a client. She always knew that Jester would already be long asleep, but it never failed to ease any worries she may have been carrying.

What she saw made a soft smile crossed her lips.

In the dim blue light of early morning, they were curled up together, tangled, in their bed. Jester’s head rested on Beau’s chest and was tucked under her chin, her arm and leg encircling her. Beau’s own limbs were flung out over the covers and splayed in every direction, one foot hanging off the edge, her snoring seeming to reverberate off of the walls.

The delicate adoration of the scene made Marion’s heart ache in her chest. 

She remembered a time in her own life when she had felt such things for another. When she had believed that the world couldn’t touch them, and that their love would keep them safe from anything that would do them harm. 

Marion usually tried not to think of her time with Babanon, but for the first time in many months, she found herself remembering. His loss had been a profound one, and she had spent most of the past years believing that he was never to return. But learning that he could be as close as Zadash… that he had maybe lied to her, fed her a tale to steal her heart only to abscond “back to the ocean” as he claimed.

After only a few moments she found herself swept away, the memories carrying her to a time long ago, filled with bright hope and deep affections.

_ Then let amorous kisses dwell… _

Despite the pain that still festered within, Marion could never regret once so willingly handing over her heart in the way she had. His final, parting gift to her had been the very best of all — _ Jester_.

At the thought, she resurfaced from the past and looked up, vaguely registering the quiet.

She was surprised — a few minutes must have passed in her time once again wandering with Jester’s father. The still dark atmosphere of predawn had lightened, turning the world a more vibrant blue as the sun lingered just under the horizon.

The girls had shifted as well; Beau’s arm was wrapped around Jester, hand lightly traveling over her skin. She breathed deeply, sighing and waking up.

Not wanting to interrupt, Marion moved quietly to step out of the room. Turning where she stood, she had just made her first step when the floor let out a soft _ creak_. 

She sucked in a breath, freezing before slowly looking over her shoulder. 

Cheek pressed against the top of Jester’s head, Beau’s eye lazily cracked open. It lingered, unfocused, on Marion standing in the doorway before shutting once again. A second passed before both immediately snapped open.

For a moment, neither Marion nor Beau moved, trapped together as the sun finally peeked through the window.

Blinking, breaking the connection, Marion bit her lip and tried to smile, contrite. She tiptoed half into the hall, halting when a thought came to her. She turned around. 

Her hands rose in a questioning manner, motioning and asking if Beau would be willing to follow. She knew Beau to be an early riser; Marion hoped it wasn’t much earlier than when the girl usually got up.

After a tense few seconds, Beau nodded.

Marion stepped the rest of the way out. Behind her she heard Beau quietly shift her way out of the bed and Jester’s answering quiet grumble, muffled by the pillow her face was now smushed into. When she glanced back, it was to witness Beauregard’s hand linger in Jester’s for just a moment before sliding away; her face holding both tenderness and heartbreak in such a manner that it caused tears to suddenly spring to Marion’s eyes, uninhibited. 

She blinked, trying to swallow them.

_ A Thousand, and a Hundred, score… A Hundred, and a Thousand more… _

  
  


* * *

When Beau emerged only a few seconds later, her face was carefully blank, her eyebrows drawn together.

Marion walked her down the hall to her private room, where she opened the door and gently motioned for the girl to go in first.

She took a second to gather herself, closing her eyes briefly. “Beau… I owe you a sincere, _ sincere _ apology.”

When Marion looked up, she saw that Beau’s mask had slipped, confusion and distrust filling her eyes. If that was all it took to shake the girl, Marion had no idea how the rest of this conversation would go over.

“You must know that when I spoke with you the other day, my intention was never to do something as preposterous as _ reprimand _ you. Or to cause you any sort of fear, or pain, over something that I never _ ever _ plan to do.” 

Marion took a step toward her.

Beau crossed her arms. “I’m not some kid, I don’t need you to sugar-coat—”

“You deserve an explanation. I swear to you, I never wished to hurt you in the way that I did,” she said. “I greatly misjudged, and I know that in doing so, I re-opened old wounds for you. My arrogance at my own capabilities blinded me, and I should never have treated you in such a way.”

Beau stared at the floor, scowling. She gruffly cleared her throat. “So you, uh, you _ what? _You’re saying you… didn’t mean it? It was some kind of joke? That it?”

Marion took a few steps until she was standing directly in front of her, smiling sadly. “It was my inelegant attempt at teasing you, I’m afraid. I’ve been told that I’m very talented at reading people, but the evidence in front of me begs the contrary.”

Beau looked up, meeting her gaze. She held it for a few seconds before dropping it, eyes shifting everywhere but onto the woman in front of her. “Listen, I’m not in the fucking mood to be jerked around here, alright? Spit it the fuck out.”

“I think my Jester is so very lucky to have you.”

Beau froze, her fidgeting suddenly ceasing as she seemed to not breathe.

Marion continued, gently placing her hands on the girls elbows. “I think that my Jester is so lucky to have the love of someone of your strength, Beauregard. To have your loyalty. And your kindness.”

Beau only stared at the floor blankly, and Marion bit her lip, lifting her hands to chuck a finger under the girl’s chin. 

She bent her head, speaking softly. Beau’s eyes met hers slowly, as if hesitant to look. “I know that you like to hide the depth of which you care for your friends. But you cannot help it sometimes, and they see it as well. I know that for my Jester there is no better companion — she tells me every chance she has all about your many wonderful qualities. She sees it all as well.”

Marion took a deep breath before going on. “I know that… you were perhaps never told these things growing up, when hearing them mattered most.”

Beau blinked, eyebrows scrunching together. “I—I, uh—“ She tried to draw away, but Marion continued to hold her gently.

“Whoever said those things was wrong. Whatever _ imbecile _ it may have been that made you believe you are _ anything less _ than what you are is a fool — the very worst sort of person — and has me to answer to, as soon as I get my hands on them.”

“I — you… _ huh?” _ Beau stuttered, eyes wide.

“You are forever welcome in the Chateau, Beau. This can be your home, too, if you would like it to be.”

Beau swallowed. “I am… so confused.”

Marion chuckled. “I am saying Beau, that you are free to love my daughter.” She shook her head, rolling her eyes. “As if it is in any way my place to say otherwise.”

“You… aren’t kicking me out?”

“Absolutely not. I would never do that to you. And especially not for the reason you are thinking.”

Beau stepped back, putting her hands up in front of her. “But you — the other day, you told me to stay away from Jes.”

“That was not my intention. Actually” — Marion raised a sardonic eyebrow — “it was to do the opposite.”

“The opposite?” Beau croaked.

“Yes. Jester is lucky to have your affections; I think you two make a good match.”

Beau turned around suddenly, walking away a few paces before returning. “Lemme get this straight. You’re actually telling me that you’re okay with… with this?” She motioned vaguely.

“I was not — what is the phrase? Blowing smoke up your ass? — when I said those things about you. You are not this person that you claim to be. Well, maybe sometimes, a bit,” Marion allowed, fondly rolling her eyes. “But you are also wonderful. And considerate, and protective, and _ smart_.”

Beau barked a laugh, the sound splitting the quiet atmosphere around them in the growing dawn light. “Dude, you seriously have no idea — I’m a fucking asshole! Like, actually, I have fucked with so many people. Most who didn’t deserve it."

“Beau—”

“Marion.” Her expression suddenly sobered, eyes meeting Marion’s heavily. “I am a huge fuck-up. Jes... Jester deserves way better.”

“I don’t believe that there is any better than what you could give her, should you have the opportunity.”

Beau let out a breath, as if the air had been forced out of her. Her eyes closed, and when they opened again they were slightly wet.

“You’re not, like, fucking with me right? You’re really serious about all this?”

“Do you love my Jester?”

“Of course I do. Everyone who meets her loves her, how could they not?”

Marion’s lips pulled into a smile. “Are you _ in love _ with her?”

There was a pause. And then… “Yes,” Beau whispered.

Marion’s smile widened until it split her face. “Then that is all I could want for her, my girl.”

They looked at each other, the moment sinking in.

“Beau?”

They both jumped as a voice suddenly sounded from behind Marion. She turned to look, and there stood —

  
  


* * *

“Jes?” Beau whispered, name teetering on her lips as her heart stumbled.

Jester stood behind Marion — how had Beau not noticed her sneak in through the door? — eyes wide and locked on her. “Do you mean it?”

Marion took a step back, eyes shifting between where Beau stood frozen to the floor and Jester advanced further into the room. She looked just as surprised as Beau _ didn’t _ feel (a better word would probably be absolutely-fucking-terrified), but the smile on her face hadn’t completely vanished. 

Beau met her eyes urgently, silently demanding an answer to whether or not this had been planned. Marion’s responding head-shake and raised eyebrow didn’t really make her feel any better.

Jester looked thoroughly sleep-disheveled, her hair a mess and her nightdress wrinkled, but her eyes were bright. She was clearly wide awake.

“Mean what?” Beau asked, strangled. _ Play it cool, play it cool. _

Jester stopped only when they stood a foot apart. “I heard what you guys were talking about.” 

Beau’s blinked. A few times. Head shaking, eyes unfocused as she stuttered and watched Marion shoot her a thumbs up before disappearing.

A few dazed seconds went by before Beau returned to the material plane. She looked down when Jester’s frustrated voice finally reached her.

“Beau! Beau c’mon this is serious!”

“Right right, sorry, Jes—”

“No shush, don’t apologize,” Jester smiled widely at her and it stole whatever brain function Beau had managed to gather. Then Jester narrowed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to force her expression into seriousness.

“Beau, are you secretly in love with me?”

She wished that a more coherent thought presented itself, but all that came out was, “Uhhh…”

“Beau?” 

“I — uh. I—I… uhm. Yup.”

Jester bounced on her toes. “What was that?”

“I said — uh. Yeah?” She scratched the back of her neck. “Yeah, Jes. Yeah, I am. Sorr—” 

Beau suddenly found herself with an armful of blue tiefling, grunting and catching both of them as they nearly toppled over. “Jesus — fuck!”

“_Ohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh! _ Beau! I love you too! So _ so _much I love you so much, Beau.”

“You — you, really? Like actually?”

Jester pulled back, fingers tickling the base of Beau’s neck and running over the tattoo there. “Of course I do, Beau. You’re my best friend and you punch big, scary, stupid monsters for me.” Her voice quieted, softening. “And you always check on me, when I feel sad and stuff.”

Heat raced over Beau’s face, her cheeks flaming. She was sure that Marion could probably see the glow from down the hall. “Thanks, Jes,” she smiled, embarrassed. “But you do all those things for me, too, ya know?”

Jester grinned, eyes nearly squeezing shut with her happiness. It made Beau’s heart swell, and she wanted so badly in that moment to close the distance between them and kiss her.

Then it hit her like a ton of bricks. She _ could_, if what Jester was saying was true. Beau had wanted to kiss her for so long, and even if this entire thing turned out to be a dream, at least here, in this (possibly all in her head) moment, Jester maybe wanted to kiss her too.

Beau started to lean forward, but fear made her hesitate. She laid her forehead against Jester’s.

“Jes?”

“Yeah?” she whispered.

“Can I kiss you?”

Instead of answering, Jester leaned up on her tiptoes and eagerly captured Beau’s lips with her own.

It took a second, her brain completely fuzzing over, but eventually Beau sighed into the kiss. Jester tasted like candy, and she was sure that for as long as she lived she would remember the taste.

When they finally pulled away, breathing hard, their eyes met. Jester looked as stunned as Beau felt. Grins slowly spread over their faces, until the moment broke and they burst into laughter.

When they finally calmed down, Jester grabbed Beau’s hand. “Mama used to tell me about this poem some guy from a long time ago wrote. About a thousand kisses and then a hundred kisses and then even more.”

Beau raised an eyebrow.

“We should do that.”

Pausing, she considered. “I don’t see why not, probably couldn’t hurt or anyth—”

Beau was interrupted by lips crashing into hers, and she lifted her hands, cradling Jester’s face as she laughed into the kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope y'all liked it? 
> 
> I listened to so much Taylor Swift while writing this it is unbelievable. Also, Sink In by Amy Shark hit me and I have yet to recover. I stand by my claim that it is the best Beau/Jes song. 
> 
> On a side note, please leave me your favourite songs for this ship I want them all thank you


End file.
